


Last One Out Hits The Lights

by AyaFlower



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, F/M, Genderbend Tucker, Genderbend Tuckington, Genderbend Wash, M/M, Theatre AU, everyone else is the same though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5597332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyaFlower/pseuds/AyaFlower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's one of the rules of the theatre department; The last one to leave has to turn off the lights. Wash is just glad that falling in love with another actor isn't against the rules, cause she'd be failing miserably at that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last One Out Hits The Lights

**Author's Note:**

> For Kingston007, who asked; "Writing prompt b/c I need fluffy Tuckington.  
> Tucker is a drama nerd who always good parts in high school plays and Wash is a super awkward member of stage crew who may or may not be there b/c he loves watching Tucker perform? *pretty please*" With an addendum by Queen_of_Denial requesting it be gender bent.  
> I know this is like, ridiculously late, but things got really busy for me and writing was difficult. Plus, this story totally got away from me and has a plot to it now. I'm posting this as kind of a preview I guess(?) because I wanted to at least have something to put up. So I am writing more for you guys if you want it.  
> Also, I know the prompt said high school, but I ended up using college instead, I hope that's okay?
> 
> So, the theatre department is divided up into two shows; one for the Freelancers and one for the Blood Gulch Crew. This first chapter has a lot of lines from one of the plays (The Cagebirds by David Clampton) but also does skip over a good chunk. I can't find a script, but you can watch a performance here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rfxt_0onZzM  
> I was thinking the Freelancers could perform 'I Never Promised You A Rose Garden' (https://nextstagepress.net/uploads/RoseGarden_Preview.pdf). Thoughts?

Wash has a routine for Wednesdays. Well, she has a routine for everyday, but Wednesday is the best. It starts off the same as always; wake up, shower, maybe grab some fruit for breakfast, and head off to class. She only has three classes that day, so she gets off early. The campus is still busy (She’s never seen it _not_ busy), but the students are sparse and come in clusters. She finds a bench around the south corner, outside, and sits with her knees pulled up to her chest, burying her face in a novel, for a couple of hours. She waits through the crowds after the fourth period bell, feet still braced on the edge of the bench, until Connie comes to get her. The two women merge into the crowd, and make their way towards the theatre department in a mix of semi-awkward small talk and companionable silence.

Usually, no one is there when they arrive. Wash would read or study or find some other way to pass the time until rehearsal starts. But on this Wednesday, Blue Team is already there.

(Wash has no idea why they call themselves Red and Blue, when they all end up on the same stage in the end, but then again she doesn’t know why she calls herself Freelancer either.)

The stage is already set, too. Wash isn’t sure how to feel about; it’s her and Connie’s job most of the time. Sometimes Sarge and Flowers take over, but despite the fact that they’re the ones directing the show, they don’t actually do much for it. Other times, North or York will come and watch, as Wednesday is the only day that Freelancer rehearsal doesn’t overlap with the Red and Blue show. Technically, Caboose is on stage crew as well, but when he tries to help things end up broken. So, by process of elimination, it’s up to Wash and Connie to set the stage.

Blue Team has it covered today. The marks are a little off, but not enough to worry about for a rehearsal. There’s a platform upstage left, and a step ladder-esque structure with a stool balanced on it upstage right. In front of that is a box, and across form that is a bench. Upstage centre, at the back of the scene, is a block of wall with a door. The door is shut.

Tucker is standing one step below where the stool rests, script in hand, a serious look on her face. Church sits on the step further down, looking bored and occasionally inserting sarcastic comments. Caboose sits next to him, unusually quiet.

Wash and Connie quietly take their seats. Church glances over, but otherwise, the procession doesn’t seem to notice them. Tucker frowns at the pages in her hand. Not looking up, she says, “Take it from the top, Church.”

Church snorts. “We can’t take it from the top, Red Team isn’t here. They have the first lines.”

Tucker waves a hand. “Read Simmons’s part then.”

Church rolls his eyes, flipping through to the front of the script. Wash knows all the lines by now, could probably read the parts by herself, but she just listens as Church speaks (“It’s the knee, you know. It locks.”).

About halfway through the monologue, (“Although one hesitates to have one’s knees removed.”) Tucker sits down, hanging her legs off the platform and crossing them. She runs a hand over her head, brushing shoulder-length dreadlocks off to one side, but they just fall in her face again.

Wash notices all of this and pretends to notice none of it.

Church finishes, and Tucker chimes in with “You’ll have to put me down among the ‘don’t knows’.” It’s Twitting’s line, but Tucker fills it in anyway.

A series of characters all speak in a row, but the two just go back and forth instead of assigning parts. First, Church; “Organization. That’s what’s lacking. I’ll organize ‘em.”

Then Tucker; “Gravy is most important.”

Church answers, switching from Thump (the character he’s actually playing) to Gazer. “Oh, indeed. Never back-brush too hard.” Though answer is a subjective verb when none of the characters are talking _to_ each other.

Tucker twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “Dark brown and smooth it should be.” She looks up, smiles at Wash and Connie, then turns her attention back to her script.

“That’s what I tell them. There’s no point in spending a fortune on-” he stops, squinting at his lines. Caboose looks up at him at the abrupt stop, hanging on his every word. “A permanent?” He turns to face Tucker. “What the fuck is a permanent?”

Tucker tries to smother her laughter. “Don’t break character, Church. It’s unprofessional.”

Church huffs. “It’s not breaking character if I’m not playing my character.”

Tucker rolls her eyes, and is about to answer when the door opens, Sister dragging an unamused Grif behind her. Simmons follows the pair, looking decidedly exasperated but not joining in on the sibling argument. Doc trails after them, saying “Donut had to talk to a teacher, so he’s running a little late,” to Blue Team.

Tucker nods. Then she turns to the Freelancers where they’ve claimed two of the front row seats. “Any word on Tex?”

Wash feels suddenly nervous at the direct inquiry towards her. She blinks, and her brain short circuits enough that she has no answer. Connie answers for her “Dunno. Should be here soon.”

Tucker hops off her perch, taking hers and Church’s scripts and walking over towards the seats. “We should get started,” he calls over his shoulder, taking charge in the absence of anyone else willing. She faces the Freelancers. “Can you two read for Donut and Tex until the others get here?” She holds out the papers for them to take.

Wash almost says _‘I don’t need a script’_ , but realizes in time to stop the words from leaving her mouth. Connie says “Sure,” and Wash just nods.

Tucker flashes a smile. “Great, thanks.” She walks back to the stage and disappears behind the curtain. Connie nudges her shoulder, and Wash notices she’s been staring. “You want to be Mistress or Gossip?”

Wash shrugs, and Connie hands her a script. “You be Gossip, then.”

Wash flips open to the first page, just as the actors situate themselves onstage. Church takes a seat on the stool upstage right. Across from him, Sister stands on the platform, idly fixing her hair. The bench is empty, with Donut absent, but Grif sits on a box just in front and to the left of it. Simmons sits on the other side of the stage, a mirror image. Doc sits cross legged on the floor downstage right. Caboose slinks over to take a seat, muttering “Sneaking,” repeatedly under his breath as he does so. Tucker is still behind the curtain.

There’s a series of gestures and onomatopoeia before the first line. Wash delivers the opening line in place of Donut. “So she said to me…”

Simmons adds, “Camphorated oil.”

Sister, “Rinse and set.”

Grif, “With double cream.”

Church, playing his role considerably better than when he’d been reading as Gloom before, continues. “ _Disgusting_.”

Doc, “I don’t know, I’m sure.”

Church and Sister, speaking together. “Ugh! Ah!”

Then Grif, Simmons, and Wash, all at once. “Not forgetting the cherry on top. All of which is a matter of opinion. What else can I expect at my age?”

Wash zones out through most of Gloom’s monologue (having just heard it from Church) and through the exchange that follows (spoken by character this time, rather than Church and Tucker going back and forth), only clueing in when Doc says “I was never given to opinions.”

She has a monologue after that. She’s pretty sure she could perform it without the script, but just reads instead, because telling it with just her voice is easier than revealing that she knows the whole play. She ends with “Oh, I could tell you a tale or two.”

Doc picks up with “Don’t ask me. Please.”

Beside Wash, Connie puts on a voice of such false cheer that’s it sends shivers up Wash’s spine. “Sweeties? Sweeties, sweeties, sweeties. Where are my sweeties?” Wash raises an eyebrow at her, and she grins.

There is a pause, and Grif is the first to speak. “Surely it must be tea time. Where are the muffins and crumpets? Where are the toasted tea cakes? Where is the thin cut bread and butter? Where is the tea?”

Simmons continues, “Warm wrapping. That’s the only answer. Lagging, if you look at it from a plumber’s point of view. Why should we cosset our pipes, but neglect our torsos? Medicated wool is the answer. Yards of it.”

Then Sister’s line. “I’ve been experimenting with underwater shades— pearl, coral, and anemone. Youthful tints. Far too youthful to be left to mere youth. Pearl, and coral, and sea something. Has anyone noticed?”

Wash fills in as Gossip. “Only one leg. That’s a fact. I heard it myself. That makes you think, doesn’t it? Someone has explaining to do, if you ask me. All those years and only one leg.”

Church pitches in, “The rot must be stopped. That’s what a dentist does with a decaying tooth. He stops it. This is a decaying society. It must be stopped before the rot spreads.” The volatility in the line is surprisingly fitting for Church.

Doc starts to speak, “This is all so unsettling. Nothing stays the same—” but stops when the door opens and both Donut and Tex walk in. Donut stops, looks around, and sets his bag on the floor. Tex, hands on her hips, surveys the room, then waves a hand, and Doc continues his line. “—For more than two seconds running. Even the barometer goes up and down like clockwork. How can one trust in anything when everything is always changing?”

In the time the next lines are delivered, Donut moves to sit on the bench, and Tex vanishes backstage. Wash and Connie both put down their scripts, sitting back to watch the show.

It takes a while after that for Tucker to enter. First, Tex walks through the door, with a “There are my sweeties,” in a soft, unsettling voice. Then, later in the interaction, she says “Listen, you have a new playmate.” Wash’s heart beats just a little bit faster, for no discernible reason; he knows what’s going to happen, has seen this a thousand times, but something about it is still…intense.

Tucker -WildOne- steps onstage, on the unsure side of determined, taking in the room around her with wide eyes. She states, “So this is my prison. My cage,” and Tex answers, “We don’t use that word.”

Long story short, rehearsal goes smoothly. They run the show twice more in full, before looking at the clock and figuring they need to head out. Sarge and Flowers, not the first time, make no appearance whatsoever.

The actors gather their things and go their separate ways, Grif and Simmons bickering (accompanied by Sister), Doc and Donut hand in hand, Tex insisting that if Church doesn’t hurry up she’ll leave without him and never following through with the threat. Caboose scampers after them like a lost puppy, chattering about how great Church was in the performance.

Connie slings her bag over her back and walks towards the door. “Last one out hits the lights,” she calls over her shoulder.

“Got it,” Wash answers, unsure if anyone can even hear her.

Tucker steps out from behind the stage, holding an elastic between her teeth as she ties her hair up behind her head. It’s only then that Wash realizes she isn’t alone in the theatre.

“Oh. Hey,” she murmurs, and Tucker whirls, having not noticed the blond either. She continues “Thought you’d left already.”

“Nah,” Tucker replies, shrugging her book bag over one shoulder. She peers past Wash’s shoulder. “Those fuckers leave without me?”

Wash nods. “Yeah,” she says, then belatedly adds, “Sorry.”

Tucker waves a hand. “It’s fine, they do that.” She starts to walk away, but stops. She turns halfway to smirk at Wash. “So, you gonna be a gentleman, and walk me home?”

Wash’s brain does a full flip on it’s axis. She blinks, looks up at Tucker, startled, and answers “Yes.” The word comes out less confident than she’d hoped.

Tucker rolls her eyes. “Come on, then.”

Wash almost forgets to flip the light switch on her way out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> So I know it's kinda short, but it's all I've got right now. Let me know if you want me to continue?


End file.
